Her Two Mistresses
by sarcasticallydelicious
Summary: Diana takes what time she can with Leona, away from her deity's light.


Predicate v. 1: affirm, declare, 2a: to assert to be a quality, attribute, or property — used with of, b: to make (a term) the predicate in a proposition, 3: found, base — usually used with on, 4: imply

A/N: I assume Runeterra has bra technology. In my head, Morgana brought it over from her home dimension, because that top needs some serious engineering to stay up.

Warning: NSFW

* * *

There are many reasons Diana prefers the night. The cool breezes, the soothing silver light, a reprieve from searing sunlight.

And with the sun safely beyond the horizon, Diana doesn't have to share.

When she finds Leona after dark, Diana can tear that wretched armor off her. The plates still burn her hands, aggressively bright in the grey of twilight and possessively trying to assert their claim past their time. But by now Diana knows all the clasps and closures separating her from her prize. Though the sun's champion had offered, many times, to remove the awful things herself, Diana took some perverse pleasure in the pain of stripping her bare.

Leona takes her reddened hands, handling them gently as she kisses the palms and up each finger. Leona acts like it will heal her. But Diana isn't interested in healing.

Instead she circles around behind her, gathering the auburn waves of hair and moving them to Leona's front. Leona leans back into her and Diana is engulfed in the familiar scent of her hair. Diana runs her fingers up Leona's sides, the fabric feeling rough to her sensitized fingertips so acquainted with what lay underneath. Leona hums appreciatively, though Diana doubts she can feel the touch through her clothing, she savored them reverberating through her where their bodies pressed together.

"For such an impatient woman, you're quite the tease," Leona murmurs into her shoulder, eyes dark but sparkling.

Diana hums back and leans in to peck the side of her mouth, causing the smile to widen and Leona to turn further to kiss her in earnest. Diana ducks to the side, despite her lips aching for more, and begins unhooking the clasps holding Leona's bodysuit in its inconvenient position.

She is impatient, so impatient, but if she stops and think about the ticking clock, the relatively short amount of time before Leona's possessive other suitor rises to claim her once again she would not be enjoy the fleeting time together. Then Diana would probably throw her against the wall and ravish her until she was a quaking heap on the floor.

But as tempting as the option is, Diana has learned to play the long game. So she fights to calm her over-quick breaths and racing heart even if it is the last thing she wants to do. Against as persistent an opponent as the very sun in the sky, she has to.

The first hook comes apart, then the second, each one releasing a tantalizing inch of skin. Diana tilts her neck forward, kissing and licking and nipping the skin of her neck. She elicits a delightful shiver, and Leona presses back against her. Diana stumbles back slightly at the taller woman's sudden weight, then quickly retaliates, flying through the rest of the clasps and running her hands under the fabric.

Diana's cold fingers draw a hiss from Leona when they connect with her heated skin. The smooth flesh against her fingertips contrasts delightfully with the cloth brushing her knuckles. Diana spreads her fingers wide to touch as much of her as she could, leaving a path from her spine and up her ribs to the base of her breasts.

Leona's own hands are far from idle, reaching behind her to grasp whatever part of Diana she can reach. She clutches Diana's backside, pulling her against her back with one hand while the other finds its way under Diana's loose tunic and crawls ever so slowly up the curve of her hips. She tries to pivot with a frustrated noise that turns into a gasp when Diana takes the opportunity to instead dig her hands under Leona's undergarments to squeeze her breasts.

Leona's dark eyes find hers, and she doesn't say anything, just makes that pouting face Diana's never seen her wear outside these private moments together.

Well. She has never been able to resist that one.

She gives Leona's breasts a final, appreciative squeeze before moving her hands to help her out of her bodysuit.

Diana had not worn her own armor. Perhaps she doesn't want to share with her own deity either.

Finally free of all her Solari trappings, Leona turns and pulls Diana to her, bringing their lips together. Diana melts against her, dragging herself away just long enough to rid herself of her tunic before giving in completely. She molded herself to Leona's solid form, savoring the warmth and stability.

She should be used to this by now, Leona's quiet strength. At some point it had begun to seep into her, that intoxicating delusion. But each time they came together, each reminder, it became a little harder to remember the reality of the situation.

She had closed the curtains, the slit between the panels letting in only a thin line of moonlight. For once, Diana stays away.

Instead she surges forward, knocking them onto the bed. Diana lands on top, eliciting a grunt, then a laugh. Her laughs made Leona's chest move pleasantly against Diana's cheek.

Because here, lying on Leona's chest, she was not the Scorn of the Moon. She was just Diana. In all else, being just Diana is inadequate, but here she has something all her own.

So she rolls to face her, meeting Leona's eyes and kissing a line down her torso. Too quickly she her lips meet fabric. She trails her fingers up Leona's legs, grasping the soaked fabric and pulling it down, down, and off her. Diana placed a hand on Leona's thigh, her other sliding between her own legs.

Diana knows this probably isn't healthy. That the denial and hiding can only continue for so long before she had to face the facts. Because she isn't just Diana, just as Leona isn't just Leona, and only so much could be done behind closed curtains.

So she licks, long and slow, savoring the taste and the smell and the way the slick flesh slides against her tongue. Leona's thigh muscles tighten under Diana's grasp, and her high breathy gasps vibrate through her body. Diana impales herself on her own slick fingers, breathing her pleasure into Leona's core and drawing out a prayer Diana is sure the sun has never gotten from her.

She will enjoy it, until the sun rises like it always does.


End file.
